#guess everyone makes such a big deal out of it cause you can drink??? but i don’t rly like drinking so it feels like any other birthday

[soni-dragon]

“officially a full legal adult” is crazy

[sweetshuga]

MS ✰ String you out ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Warnings⚠︎ Smut!, Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, threesome!, size kink, lowkey breeding kink, pet names, p in v, dp, unprotected sex (do not), oral (m! receiving), squirting, vibe, slight intoxication (but full consent), etc.

Word count. 3k

Note. English is not my first language! Not proofread!

Psa. Matt refers to reader as "pretty" and Chris refers to reader as "ma", just so you don't get confused with the dialogues.

Sum. Everything goes south when you show up at the campus Halloween party in a tiny black witch costume; becoming their prey for the night.

You weren’t prepared when your best friend came knocking at your door with a big duffle bag, trying to convince you to come to the annual Halloween party, but you had already decided to stay in your dorm room and continue doing your assignments.

"C’mon, don’t be like that, I even bought us matching costumes," she stepped inside, letting you close the door behind her. "I can help you do your make-up, please?" Your friend begged, plopping down on your bed. You sighed and rubbed your temple, "I told you already, I’m not going, that Halloween party will probably be just like a frat one and you know how I am about frat parties."

Your friend crossed her arms with raised eyebrows, "no, it won’t be like a frat party, but I guess there’ll be those fraternity guys there since you know... Campus party, everyone’s gonna be there–" you cut her off, "except for me," causing her to collapse back onto your bed.

"Pretty please?" She pleaded again, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically, making you laugh. "No, like I said–" she cut you off with a groan, "c’mooon, Halloween happens only once a year..." her voice trailed off as a grin made its way onto her lips, "if you go this once, I won’t bug you again, like I promise I won’t ask you to come to frat parties with me."

You couldn’t help but be tempted with the deal, clearing your throat as you looked at her, "you serious?" She nodded vigorously, "yeah, I am, I am dead serious, so? will you?" You sighed and nodded, eliciting a happy "yay" from her.

She immediately spilled the contents from her huge duffel bag, tons of make-up products and two matching witch costumes. You picked one up, inspecting it. The costume was incredibly short and could almost pass off as a long shirt.

"Are you serious? This is what you picked?" She gave you a deadpanned look, "it’s Halloween! You know what they say, the only time of the year to be as slutty as you want." She nudged your arm, grinning, "plus I bet guys would go nuts when they see you in this."

𓆩♡𓆪

Your friend helped you with your make-up, and as you looked in the mirror, you felt like you were someone else, in a good way. The costume was short, but it made you feel a bit more confident than usual. The black heel boots you had lying around – that you’ve been wanting to wear for so long – seemed to match the vibe of the dress.

The long sleeves and overall style of the costume had already started to grow on you. "Not too bad," you said as you curled your hair, "yeah? told you so," your friend grinned triumphantly, making you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

The moment you arrived at the party, your ears immediately rang at the loud music, "fuck, why is it so loud here?" you shouted to your friend, trying to get your words across the short distance, but the music drowned out your voice.

"It’s always this loud, you’re just not used to it, c’mon, let’s get drinks!" She dragged you towards the table of drinks, expertly weaving through the crowd. Alcohols that you didn’t even know the names of were stacked in an oddly neat way along with soft drinks, water and way too many solo cups.

A girl standing by the table, dressed as the grinch, offered to make you and your friend drinks, halloween specials. As you were sipping on your drink, you noticed a pair of guys, almost identical looking.

"Holy fuck, you know who they are?" you nudged your friend, jerking your head at the direction of the guys dressed as vampires. She followed your gaze and looked at them, "yeah?" she chuckled, "you don’t?" Shaking your head as you kept your gaze on the guys, unable to take it off of them.

"Of course you don’t, you’re always buried in schoolwork," she clicked her tongue, "they’re quite famous around campus you know?" You let out a huff, taking another big gulp of your drink, groaning at the burn of the mixed alcohols. "So? Who are they?"

"The one with the cap is Chris and the one that doesn’t have a cap is Matt, obviously, they’re identical triplets, but I don’t think Nick’s here today." You let out an "oh" sound of understanding before you took another sip of your drink.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl," your friend shrugged, telling you all she knew about them, "yeah... couldn’t care less, c’mon let’s just dance or something," you said pulling your friend away from the table of drinks and onto the dance floor. You couldn’t help but feel interested despite your words.

After one too many drinks and a few stolen glances later, you found yourself in a bathroom, two pairs of hands roaming over your body while you shared a kiss with one of the guys—the one with the cap.

The other one kissed your neck, trailing it down to your collarbone and leaving love bites there before going back to your neck. The one with the cap broke the kiss, "you know our names ma?" He breathed out, "uh... you’re Chris, and he’s Matt, right?" you asked hesitantly, the slight intoxication making your mind a jumbled up mess.

"Mhm—bingo, pretty," Matt whispered, his lips grazing just under your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as they continued to kiss and caress your body, your body reacting to every word and touch from them, making their faces light up with smirks.

Their fake fangs nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp softly each time. "Say, let’s go to a more comfortable place?" Chris suggested, "Yeah, can’t really do much in a bathroom," Matt chuckled as he added.

They led you out of the bathroom and weaved through the crowd of people dancing. You tried to find your friend to tell her you were going but you couldn't find her in the crowd. Suddenly, you got a message and a photo from her apologizing saying that she was gonna head home with her boyfriend since it was getting late. How convenient.

You sighed and let the guys lead you out of the party, your costume rode up ever so slightly as you tried to balance on the heel boots in your slightly tipsy state. You were very much aware of your surroundings and the two fellas, dressed as vampires, leading you towards their car.

"Where are we going?" You asked, a bit puzzled but willing. Matt and Chris both chuckled in unison at your confused state, "oh yeah, we’re gonna go to our place, you mind?" Chris asked as he looked back at you, "I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, we could always hit up a hotel," Matt shrugged.

You hummed, looking back and forth between them before making your decision, "no, yeah, i’m good with your place," they both visibly relaxed and grinned, "alright then, hop in, pretty," Matt said as he opened the backseat door.

𓆩♡𓆪

The drive to their place was fairly fast, accompanied by small talks and laughter, but that quickly turned into heated kisses and breathy moans once you got inside their house. Stumbling into one of their rooms, they started to strip you out of the skimpy costume.

Gently pushing you on the bed before they started to strip themselves, your gaze raked over their bodies as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once they were matching you in nakedness, they sat on either side of you, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

"Fuck, you’re so beautiful ma, so fucking beautiful," Chris murmured against the swell of your breast, "mhm... so pretty" Matt whispered an agreement in your ear before kissing along your jawline, his hand caressing your body, slowing inching down to cup your mound.

You hissed softly when his fingers made in contact with your swollen clit, slick with arousal, and throbbing for attention. The brothers quickly picked up on your growing need and desperation as they saw just how wet you had become.

Your folds glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the obvious need evident in your tone when Chris plunged a finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping in a second finger and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers.

"Someone’s eager," Matt chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual, betraying his arousal. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel more than usual or just the brothers themselves, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

They adjusted your position, easily manhandling you, but their touch was gentle– almost tender if you will. The new position gave them more to work with. You were on your hands and knees and they stood on their knees on either side of you, still squeezing and caressing every inch of skin they could touch.

They were big – huge even – it made you feel a bit nervous. They were easily 10", and who knows how thick, standing tall and proud. You gulped softly when Chris gripped your hip with one hand and led his length towards your aching pussy. The tip of his cock slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against him.

They chuckled at your needy gestures and sounds, "you’re so responsive ma, ’s intoxicating," Chris emphasized his words with a slap on your ass, causing you to jolt and whine, his hand gently caressing the reddening skin.

Matt, being the one in front of you, caressed your cheek and made you look up at him by lifting your face by your jaw. Smirking when he saw the desperation in your eyes, "what’s up pretty? Can’t handle a little teasing?" He spoke with faux sympathy, making you all the more desperate.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, you felt the sudden stretch, causing you to move forward—trying to get away from the sensation, only to be held in place by two pairs of hands. Chris clicked his tongue, "relax ma," his hands squeezed your ass, sinking his fingers in your plush flesh as he moved forward, filling you completely.

"Oh fu—ck, Chris too big–" your moans got muffled when Matt fed you his length, groaning at the sensation of your mouth on him and the vibrations from your moans as Chris took you from behind.

Chris’ pupils dilated when he saw the way your ass recoiled against his hips with each deep and slow thrust, he gripped your hips tighter and surged forward with increasing fervor. The force of it pushed you forward, each thrust making you involuntarily deepthroat Matt, making them both groan at the pleasure.

Chris suddenly pulled out, and stood up, "I think I’ve got something nice." Matt chuckled when he understood what Chris implied and pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. You looked at them confused, feeling empty and still aching with need.

A few minutes later, Chris came back with a vibrator and a bottle of lube in hand. You blinked rapidly as your gaze flickered between the brothers, making them chuckle, "don’t worry pretty, we’ll make you feel good, ’promise." Chris sat on the bed behind you, getting in position again.

"Alright ma, up," he playfully slapped your ass before helping you back in the position you were in moments ago, but this time you were facing Chris with Matt behind you. Your moans filled the room once again when Matt entered you, stretching you deliciously.

Your moans were quickly muffled by Chris’ cock, which you eagerly let in your mouth, and the pleasure was already bordering on too much. Your body tensed when you felt vibrations on your clit. Matt groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him like a vice, his hips picking up pace in response.

Your moans vibrated around Chris’ shaft, making him buck his hips faster, fucking your mouth as he gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your eyes rolled back briefly as Matt hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan louder.

The vibrations of the vibe increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. That was when Matt held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot—your g-spot.

The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but their hands kept you in place. With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn them due to Chris’ cock in your mouth. The brothers let out breathy chuckles when they saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

They followed you soon after, their releases filling up your holes. You couldn’t even keep yourself steady on your legs and arms anymore, it was all threatening to buckle under you any second.

Carefully, they laid you down, and seeing the wrecked state you were in just seemed to fuel their desires further. Their semi-hard lengths hardened once more as they gazed down at you. Your disheveled hair, the hickeys adorning your body, Matt’s release trickling out of you and Chris’ dripping down your chin.

Matt’s hand came up to caress your side, causing a breathy sigh to escape your lips, "you think you can go one more round pretty?" Chris chuckled softly, "mhm—ma, don’t think we can get enough of you, think you can take us both?"

"Both? like at the same time?" you whispered, your voice already hoarse from overuse. They nodded, chuckling as they helped you into a sitting position, "yeah, we’ve got lube, but it’s fine if you’re not up for it, pretty—" you cut him off, "well, I don’t mind, i mean... if it can fit that is..." your voice trailed off as you looked down at their laps.

"Don’t worry, ma, we’ll make it fit," is all you heard before they got in position. Matt laying with you on top of him and Chris behind you. The pop of the lube cap made your body shiver in anticipation, the mildly cold oil jolting every nerve as it ran down your slit, making you shudder.

Matt slowly pushed inside, eliciting a soft moan from you, and as you finally adjusted to his size, Chris nudged himself on your already full pussy. "Shh— ’s alright, pretty, just relax," Matt cooed from under you, his arms holding you in place as Chris entered you from behind. You squirmed under their touch, moaning loudly, and the stretch being too much, too big.

Chris grunted at the tightness as he pushed inside, stilling when he bottomed out inside you, "shit ma, so fuckin’ tight," he hissed through his teeth. Matt chuckled, his voice huskier, "yeah, you like how we stretch you, pretty? how fuckin’ big we are?" You could only mumble a "yes" that sounded more like a whimper.

They let you adjust to their sizes—the fullness and the stretch. Their hands caressed your body soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing your shoulders and neck.

You finally relaxed around them, moaning softly at the sudden pang of pleasure from being filled to the brim. Your pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by Matt and Chris, chuckling to themselves as they started to move. Your world blurred as you felt an immense pleasure you’ve never felt before.

Your body moved on its own, meeting their thrusts, wanting more of that delicious feeling. And all that only made them move faster – harder – thrusting into you with renewed fervor. Your hands clutched whatever you could hold, grounding yourself so you wouldn’t get consumed by the pleasure.

"Fu—ck pretty, so fuckin’ tight," Chris mumbled an agreement, both of them holding you in place as they took what they wanted. You could only hold on, and moan for them. "Shit, gonna fill you up so good— swell you with my cum, ma," Chris groaned, "Yeah, fuck— you ready for us pretty?" Matt added, muffling his sounds of pleasure on your shoulder.

You mumbled a plea for them to cum inside you—to which they gladly did, groaning and moaning as they filled you up. Their combined release spilled out from the sides, making a mess.

Gently pulling out from your well-used hole, their chests heaved with exertion. In spite of their softening cocks, they couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when they saw the sight of their mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

They both groaned under their breaths before exchanging knowing glances, a silent conversation between them, and slowly alerting you about their insatiable desires for you. "You okay, pretty?" Matt’s hand caressed your cheek while Chris squeezed your ass, "we’re not done with you ma, not by a long shot."

They chuckled as they saw you look at them surprised, but didn’t protest or say no, instead pulled them closer – a silent plea for more. "We’re gonna fuck this pussy so good," Matt whispered in your ear, "and fill you up with our spend until you swell with our babies," Chris added, whispering in your other ear.

Their words were filled with promises, and that alone made you feel immense pleasure, a need for more.

The next morning, you woke up with a bad headache, and sore all over. It wasn’t a surprise that you had a hangover but it was a surprise when you became aware of your surroundings. You were in an unknown room, entangled with not one, but two guys. It didn’t help that they were brothers, identical brothers.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl." Your friend’s words echoed in your head. Guess it wasn’t true after all, their bro code.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 3,086

Isa's notes. I've never written a Chratt fic before, or anything with two love interests, or a threesome in that matter so like... my bad if it's shit.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

Masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 Taglist

Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @grace-sturnz @billiesbabya

© sweetshuga

[flkwh0re]

Try it, Bite it, Lick it, Spit it

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Strap-on usage (R receiving), Brief fingering, Degradation, Praise, Use of the word slut, Mirror sex, Hair pulling/gripping, Sex in a public bathroom (gross Natasha 😕), Overstimulation (R receiving), Oral (R receiving)

Word Count: 1.1k

Authors Note: Didn’t really have much going to this fic, I just wanted to make a fic with this title. (Stream Guess by Charli xcx and Billie Eilish 😚)

The loud music that blared through club felt like it shook your core. It was so loud you couldn't even hear your own thoughts, which was a total lie. You just couldn't think because of the gorgeous red head that had showed up with Yelena.

Yelena was your best friend, along side her girlfriend Kate Bishop. You'd known Yelena since your first day of college, she was your roommate at the time. You did everything with her and basically knew everyone she did, but not this woman.

"Y/n, come here!" Yelena yelled to you, the thick Russian accent being the only reason you were able to hear her. "I want you to meet my sister, Natasha. Natasha this is Y/n." You weren't sure how you should greet such a beautiful woman, so you stupidly stuck your hand out for a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." The woman said with very captivating grin on her lips. "Like wise, Natasha." The use of her full name caused her to cringe a little, "Just Nat." You awkwardly smile and nod.

The night moved very slowly, mostly due to your soberness, but also the countless men that would hit on Natasha ruining your small talk. "Let me buy you a drink, help you enjoy yourself a little." Natasha suggested. "I've gotta be able to get home, last time I trusted Yelena getting me home we spent half the night on the streets trying to figure out the gps." A grin creeped on Natasha's face at your jab directed at her sister.

"I can get you home sweetheart, it's no big deal." You were saved by the dim lights of the corner you and Natasha were in, you were sure your face was scarlet red. "Fine." Following your agreement, drink after drink kept coming, and now Natasha's and yours conversation flowed like you'd known each other for years.

"C'mon Nat, dance with me." You pleaded with the older woman, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. Eventually you dragged her onto the floor, pushing through the swarm of bodies. Her front pressed flush against your back, as you swayed to the music. Her hands possessively held onto your hips, almost as if she were afraid you'd get away from her to go dance with some helpless drunk.

Your body felt like putty in Natasha arms, the arms that were moving up and down your body as her hands gripped and groped at your curves. Her hot breath fanned on the back of your neck, her soft lips occasionally brushing the sensitive skin. "Come with me."

Your hand linked with Natasha's as you two walked off to what you assumed was to the bathroom. You were never one for a hookup, especially in a club bathroom, but Nat made you want to and so you did. Your back collided with the door as soon as it shut, Natasha briefly fumbling with the lock before her lips hungrily connected with yours.

Her tongue laced with yours, as your lips molded together. Your mouths so connected that your moans didn't escape her mouth, but rather she swallowed them. "Fuck you're so hot, I wish Yelena brought you around." Natasha leaned back to admire your current state. Your hair pushed around, clothes slightly wrinkled, your gradually weakening legs as Natasha worked you up.

Her lips returned on yours, and her fingers found new ground on the clasp of your jeans. She tugged it apart and slipped her hand past the lacy material of your soaked panties. "Fuck pretty girl, you're so wet." She rasped, eliciting a pitiful whimper from you. "All for you." You could barely muster the words.

Natasha's rough fingers rubbed your clit just the right way, almost too good for you to bear. "F-fuck Nat! Feels s'good." You managed out the words that felt caged in your throat, and you could tell she knew you were struggling by the small laugh that came from her.

"You like that, hm? Wanna see how much you like this?" She took your hand rubbing it against her crotch, the feeling of silicone begging for release rubbed against your hand. You groaned loudly just from thinking about her fucking you with it. "I think you're wet enough, turn around." Natasha demanded, and you obeyed.

Natasha tugged down your jeans, along with her own. She slid the toy into you with ease and a little force, which caused your front to be flush against the sink. Natasha's hands roughly gripped your hips, yours holding onto whatever you could grab. "Fuck you're so tight, I wish I could feel you. I bet you feel so good." Her filthy words making you moan, so loud that she covered your mouth.

Her hips slapped against yours so rapidly it was almost painful, but the pleasure of the toy rubbing against your deepest parts made all that pain unrecognizable. "You're doing so good for me Y/n, being such a good girl."

Your hair was tugged and balled up into Natasha's hand in a matter of seconds, as she forced you to look in the mirror. "Watch yourself get fucked by me you slut, fucked by your best friends sister. By a woman you just met." The harsh, degrading and words that left her lips made you even more turned on.

"Nat, 'm close. 'M gonna cum, Please!" You begged. "Yea, gonna cum on my cock? Go on then, cum for me." And you did, Natasha made you see stars as she mercilessly fucked you through your orgasm.

Before you knew it she had you sitting on the counter, your jeans completely discarded somewhere. Her head between your thighs as she ate you out. You were too sensitive to take it, but to fucked out to use your words to beg her to stop. Your second orgasm nearing and all you could manage was a little whimper, "C'mon use your words, you got this baby. You're doing so good for me, you can do it." She praised.

"Please, I need- I can't take it!" Her pace quickened, it was so painful but you needed release so bad. "Nat, 'm cuming!"

"You did so good, let me help you clean up and I'll take you home okay?" You nodded, "But what about Yelena?" You asked as Natasha helped support your body, so you could redress. "I'll text her, don't worry your pretty little head." She said as a placed a little kiss on your forehead.

That night wasn't the end of you and Natasha. Eventually after a few hook ups she asked to take you on a date, which went so well it turned into multiple dates, then you were officially together.

MASTERLIST

[sodaabaa]

shadows and spirits, part one

azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself.

tw: slightly nsfw, brief mentions of illyrian misogyny, suggestions of edging and arousal

part two

Bells rang as the door to the bar opened, signaling the arrival of the day’s first customers – or so Y/N thought. She walked to the bar counter, leaving behind the half opened crates of newly shipped wines and spirits. She’d deal with those later. 

“Y/N! How’s my favorite bartender?” Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court walked in with his arms raised and a friendly, welcoming smile on his face. 

She fought the urge to smile at the sight of her friend, “I’m only your favorite because I give you discounts and secrets,” she whispered the last part as he approached.

Y/N ran one of the most popular bars in Velaris, being a favored spot for many because of its proximity to the Sidra River and the spectacular view it offered (and of course, the variety of top-shelf liquor favored by Rhysand himself). Y/N knew everyone and anyone that frequented her bar. She often provided a shoulder to cry on and a few shots of tequila to mend broken hearts. Because of this, she gathered vast amounts of information from the citizens of the beautiful city and when needed, she reported back to Rhys. 

Rhys smiled, leaning his elbows on the counter. She swatted at him with a towel, “I just cleaned that.” Rhys chuckled but didn’t remove himself from the dark wood counter.

She opened her mouth to ask Rhys why he was here when something pricked at the back of her neck. Her eyes darted to the man trailing behind Rhys like a shadow, and then back to the High Lord. She stood a little taller, back straightening as she steeled herself. 

“Here on business, I guess?” She asked him. His smile faded as he nodded. She poured herself and the High Lord a drink to avoid any more eye contact with the man who’d just entered. They clinked their glasses and downed their drinks. With a sigh, Rhys pulled something out of his back pocket.

“Have you seen these men?” He placed a few pictures on the counter and waited for Y/N to recognize them. 

“I may have seen them, they look familiar. I can ask the girls, maybe they’d have more luck identifying them,” she replied. 

Rhys nodded, “Alright, be on the lookout for these guys. They’ve been stirring up some trouble and I’m gonna need to put an end to that before it gets worse.” “Are they Illyrian?” “Unfortunately,” Rhys replied with a sigh.

“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” she gave him a curt nod. 

“Take care, Y/N,” and with that, Rhys turned to leave. Azriel on the other hand, stayed behind. Y/N quickly busied herself with wiping down the counter and tidying up in hopes he’d get the signal and leave.

“You can’t avoid this forever, Y/N,” he finally broke the silence, his voice deep and flat – it rumbled through her, causing the hairs on her arms to raise. 

She threw the towel onto the counter, “Watch me,” she spat back. Big mistake. His hazel eyes darkened, shadows coming to life around him; twisting and flaring with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. He exhaled, silently making his way out the same door he arrived in. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You could at least try being less hostile towards him, the poor man is in a constant state of sulking these days,” Feyre said as she swirled the glass of ruby-colored wine in her hands.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend’s attempt at getting her to talk to Azriel. Feyre frequently visited the bar since it was closeby to her art studio. The two had hit it off quickly, becoming close friends and bonding over art, music, and men. Feyre had found out about Y/N’s mating bond issue and because she was biased (being friends with Azriel), she constantly pestered Y/N about it. 

“Feyre, I already told you. I don’t want anything to do with Illyrians – they’re possessive, violent, and they view women as breeding machines,” she looked at the High Lady, “and I mean this with all due respect to Rhys, I don’t want to be mated to an Illyrian.” 

“He’s really a big softie, I promise. Just get to know him, he has the same complaints about Illyrians as you do!” Of course she would defend him, they’d been close friends ever since Feyre first arrived at the Night Court. But she overlooked the innate instincts of the warrior species. 

Y/N sighed. She tried to repress the memories of her parents – her mother, like Y/N, was mated to an Illyrian. She knew the culture they were raised in, the way they looked down on women, the violence they were accustomed to. To top it all off, Azriel was the Spymaster of the Night Court – the rumors about his cruelty and power were enough to keep Y/N away from him in fear. Luckily, she knew he’d stay away until she accepted the bond.

“I somehow doubt a man who tortures people for a living could be a 'big softie',” she replied with a scoff. 

Feyre sighed, “He doesn’t hurt the innocent – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hurt a fly even,” she took Y/N hands in hers, “He’s a good man, Y/N. Give him a chance.” 

Y/N huffed, “I’ll think about it.” 

Feyre squealed, an uncharacteristic sound for a High Lady to make, and pulled Y/N in for a hug. 

“You won’t regret this!” 

I somehow doubt that, she thought to herself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the sun began to set, the bar came alive with people ready to unwind after a long day of work. The air hummed with laughter and conversation, glasses clinking in the air while soft melodies floated about. Y/N looked around the bar for the men Rhys was looking for, taking in the lively atmosphere – a jolt of pride running through her as she surveyed the place she built up from the bottom.

Despite the bustling noise of the bar, she felt that damned prickle on the back of her neck, her eyes catching on the shadows in the corner. He did this every so often – lurked in the corners, watching her. She rolled her eyes, returning to the customers at the counter asking for drinks. 

“Hey sweetie, give us a smile!” One of her unfortunately regular customers called out. He leaned forward, trying to get in Y/N’s way.

“Find someone else to bother tonight, Devon,” she replied, topping his glass with more liquor avoiding eye contact with the sleazy man who constantly vyed for her attention. 

“Oh, but I wanna bother you,” his hand grabbed hers. 

“Devon, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit tonight, let go,” She said as she tried wriggling her wrist out of his grip. The nuisance of a customer pulled her closer but stopped in his tracks, abruptly letting her hand go and backing away from the bar. He all but scurried away and Y/N sighed. She knew there was only one man who could make people shit their pants in fear like that. 

“You could’ve at least let him pay before he left,” She said without even bothering to turn around as she picked up the abandoned glass of whiskey.

The man behind her dramatically placed a few coins on the counter. She braced herself for the brooding face and shadows as she turned around. She glared up at him, the height difference between them all the more prominent as he stood not even a foot away.

“Stop sending Feyre to do the dirty work of convincing me to accept the bond,” she tried to sound intimidating – or at least serious but she found it difficult when faced with his presence, it consumed all of her confidence and left her feeling small, defenseless against the Spymaster.

“I didn’t send her,” he replied rather monotonous but she could see the tinge of amusement on his face at the sight of her trying to put up a confident front.

“Well if you’re done playing savior, can I get back to work?” 

“Would it kill you to say 'thank you?'” He blocked her from passing by with his aggravatingly large obsidian wings. 

She put her hands on her hips and mustered up all the vitriol she could, “Yes, actually, it would. Now get out of my way before I kick you out.” 

He let out a breathy laugh, a laugh. Y/N, now fuming at the man before her, shoved him in the chest, knowing it wouldn’t amount to much but it helped relieve her annoyance.

This time, he chuckled, a sound that resonated through her, only serving to fuel the fire that was Y/N’s anger. She grabbed one of the soda guns under the counter and aimed it at the nuisance before her. His brows lifted in surprise and he lifted his hands in a mock surrender. Her eyes fell to his scarred hands and her stomach dropped as her hands gripped the soda gun tighter.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, “I’ll be around.” With that, he returned to the shadows and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

At the end of the night, the final few customers stumbled their way out of the bar and Y/N took a seat at one of the tables, exhausted from the day’s work. She poured herself a drink, relishing in the quiet – though her relief was short lived when she sensed the shadows in the corners. She squinted, grabbing a towel from her apron and threw it at the corner. He caught it, revealing himself from the shadows. 

“If you wanna lurk here after hours, the least you could do is help me clean up.” Amusement once again danced over his dark features. No doubt thinking about all the ways he’d make her pay for her rude behavior. He didn’t say anything as he started wiping down the tables, eyes occasionally finding their way back to Y/N, shadows brushing her skin when she walked past him.

They cleaned in silence, Y/N taking a mop to the floors while Azriel put up the chairs and collected stray items off the tables. Something clicked in her then, she felt almost at ease with his presence. Almost. 

“Do you know what happens when accepting the mating bond is delayed?” He said, breaking the silence.

She looked at him from across the room as he put up the last few chairs.

“What happens?”

His eyes darkened, narrowing at her, “There are reports of males being unable to stop themselves from taking their mate, over and over," he paused, giving her a moment to process, "I like to think I have more restraint than my dimwitted brothers but even I cannot control nature,” his voice was dangerously low as he spoke. It made Y/N stomach flutter in ways she couldn’t contain. Her skin prickled as she took in his words. Her chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm, suddenly realizing she was at a crossroads. 

She’d been putting off accepting the bond for years now. They had first met at the grand opening of the bar. Rhys had come to congratulate her and survey the bar and of course, he had brought the inner circle. They became her first customers. A feeling of dread welled in her stomach when she first laid eyes on Azriel and somehow she knew it was him, her mate. She cursed the Cauldron for pairing her with the deadliest Illyrian in Prythian. 

“You won’t be able to delay it forever, Y/N,” he stalked closer to her, massive wings dragging behind him, a predator approaching its prey.

She took a step back, stumbling into the table behind her and she flinched. He smirked at her clumsiness. 

“Eventually, you’ll feel it. The primal, unavoidable need. The raw desire,” he drawled. 

She swallowed, looking up at the man who now stood too close to her for comfort. She leaned back, her weight shifted to her hands gripping the table behind her to put as much distance between them as she could. He only looked down at her, his intense gaze raking over her body, sensing her fear. He leaned down, she could feel his breath tickle her ear as he said, “That’s not fear, Y/N. It’s arousal.” Her breath got caught in her throat at the show of his abilities. He straightened and stepped back, giving her room to breathe. 

“Good night, mate.” 

He disappeared into the night, leaving her dazed and flustered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/N entered the bar, grumbling at Daisy, one of the bartenders, as she passed by the bubbly girl.

“Woah, what’s got you all crabby this morning?” She glared at Daisy, prompting her to find some task to tend to as Y/N slouched on the counter. She couldn’t get a wink of sleep the last few nights. Azriel’s words echoed in her mind, keeping her up.

It’s not fear, it’s arousal. 

After he left the bar that night, she found herself almost constantly in an aggravating state of arousal. Despite this, she couldn’t find any relief no matter what she did. She tried pleasing herself but when all she could think about was Azriel and his dominating presence, she decided to erase the memory of him through a string of one night stands. To her utter dismay, none of it worked. It nearly drove her mad. She hadn’t seen Azriel in the past few weeks since that night and she realized he was giving her space on purpose, to heighten her need to see him again. Asshole, she thought.

She poured herself a drink, hoping it’d dull the throbbing in her head (and in other places she deigned to acknowledge). 

“Day drinking? Is there something bothering you, Y/N?” 

Great. As if the day couldn’t get any better.

The velvety, deep voice rang through her, causing damned butterflies in her stomach. He stood before her, dressed in his fighting leathers, blue siphons pulsing with power. He gave her a knowing smirk.

“I can’t deal with this today,” she said as she walked off.

“You could give in, you know. It would provide you with the much needed relief you’re so desperately trying to seek,” he taunted.

“No thanks, there’s bound to be some half witted man that can satisfy me plenty,” she shot back.

The shadows around him flared, reaching out towards her but not quite touching her. Azriel’s eyes were dark. Maybe it was stupid of Y/N to taunt him, dangerous even, but she'd spent the last few days in sleepless agony because of him. He could suck it.

“Aw, is the big bad Spymaster jealous?” She teased.

“Don’t play games with me, Y/N.” She walked back over to him, lifting her chin in defiance. 

“Or what? We both know you won’t touch me until I accept the bond.” 

He smirked, “You will accept the bond. And when you do, you are going to be at my mercy. Begging for relief,” he gripped her chin with a hand, sending a chill down her spine, “And I’ll take that as an opportunity to remind you of your obstinance.” 

“I bet you’re just as pent up as I am. It gives me peace knowing you can only find relief with me. Maybe it’ll give me the strength I need to continue denying you.” 

He let out a breathy laugh, “I have centuries of experience on you, little girl.” 

Her stomach dropped at the degrading title. The reminder of his age dawned on her. He fought in the first war against Hybern, Y/N hadn’t even been born then. She was a mere century and half to his five centuries. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” He taunted with a smile.

She shoved him off in a sudden movement. Grateful to be away from him. 

“Fine, I’ll give you some room to breathe. Cauldron knows you’ll be needing it.” 

He left as fast as he had appeared, once again leaving Y/N off-centered for the rest of the day. What have I gotten myself into?

[kyber-crystal]

red thread || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.

words: ~2.3k

warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)

a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm

It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep. 

It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes. 

“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”

“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”

“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”

“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”

“We’re making history day by day.”

“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”

“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”

“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”

“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”

“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good.”

“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”

“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”

“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”

“What about the second one?”

“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”

You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”

“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”

“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”

The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms. 

TWO YEARS LATER

As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything. 

“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”

“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours’ and Hangman’s birthday.”

“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”

“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”

“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”

“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it. 

You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you. 

“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you. 

Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself. 

“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that  argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him. 

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”

“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”

“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”

If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”

“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?” 

“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...

“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”

You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”

“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”

If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal. 

“...Thanks.”

“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”

“Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.” 

You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”

Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth. 

Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining. 

Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot. 

You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door. 

You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”

“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness. 

“Did you steal it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s his, isn’t it.”

“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”

“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”

“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.

The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road. 

“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”

“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.

You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit. 

“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”

“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”

Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”

“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”

“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”

“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”

Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”

The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.

tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer (national league)

MLB catcher!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: it’s your boyfriend’s first big game on his new team & you can’t wait to see what fun the match holds for you and your favorite player

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, baseball AU, light use of gendered language, good cozy fluff, lovesick & sweet!Frankie, competency kink, smutty thoughts, spicy themes, light mask & outfit kink, car sex, heavy making out, oral (f receiving), allusion to p in v, eventual!husband Frankie, lots of baseball talk

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yeah didn’t think I’d ever make a new baseball story for another Pedro boy but I’m on that World Series championship celebration high so here we are LMAO, thanks to @tonysopranosrobe my darling for always dealing with my sports ass (ily forever Han) & to @jolapeno for always being the best Frankie enabler i could ever scream with (I adore you Jo) - and to anyone who decides to read please know I appreciate you thank you so much ♡

This is Frankie’s first season catching as a Los Angeles Dodger. You thought he’d be playing for Miami until he eventually retired. But baseball is still a strange sport, an almost chaotic rush of chess at times with pieces switching all around.

“A team still wants me even when I’m about to turn thirty nine. So fuck, yeah I’ll take it.” Frankie had joked then, but you knew, even for his age, he’s considered one of the league’s best veteran players.

Then before the trade was finalized, Frankie sat you down and told you he might be moving to LA.

“This means…we really might not be seeing each other as often.” He muttered. “But I can maybe try to see if Tampa can be an option.”

He was willing to find a way to stay in Florida for you. Even though you were a bit heartbroken he was leaving, you couldn’t let him pass up on this amazing deal and new opportunity.

The gentle cooling California breeze now flutters all around. You won’t be able to make many trips out here often, but you wanted to at least be here for the first home game to support your favorite baseball player.

You first were introduced to Frankie at your best friend cookout. You had met her cousins Benny and his brother Will before. You were instead being introduced to all their friends, including the very handsome Santiago who insisted you call him Pope.

However, it was Frankie who stole your heart that day.

You and him had accidentally walked into each other, causing your drink to spill on him. Frantic, and so embarrassingly apologetic, you immediately went to wipe away your mess.

“I gotta admit… I’ve been trying to work up the confidence to talk to you. Guess the universe helped me out a bit.” Frankie had shyly said, and his words sent your heart fluttering.

It was an effortlessly sweet introduction after that, filled with easy small talk. When you asked what he did for work, Frankie explained he worked at the stadium for the Miami Marlins.

“Oh that’s cool!” You had said bright, but Benny just as bright yelled out -

“It’s cause he fucking plays there!”

Frankie had blushed furious, cussing angrily in Spanish at Benny. But what Benny said was true.

Frankie, very humbled and almost embarrassed, confirmed he did in fact play for the Marlins.

“But I’m just a water boy.” He added with a boyish grin.

“He’s a fucking liar! He’s one of the league’s best catchers!” Pope had then yelled proud.

You became friends with Frankie that day, but you also quickly learned about Francisco Morales.

Professional Major League Baseball player Francisco Morales.

That very first day you met Frankie your knowledge of baseball was bare bones.

Now, as his girlfriend, he jokes how hot it is hearing you talk about the game with him or anyone else.

It’s how you’re able to mingle with the others in the large friends and family suite for the team now. The food of course is delicious, and everyone warmly welcomes you. But you want to be by the action when the game starts.

You need to be near your guy.

Frankie’s job as a catcher has him sitting behind home plate.

A catcher is an intense position. They’re the one person during the game that has full eyes on the field. They alone protect home plate and sometimes call pitches for the pitcher to throw. The catcher is even argued to be the commander of the field. Catchers need to be solid, almost a rock like foundation for their team.

“I only started playing catcher in high school ‘cause our team’s catcher got suspended, and they needed someone, so I just did it.” Frankie had told you with a shrug.

To you though, Frankie seemed born to be a catcher.

Even as quietly warm and playful your Frankie can be, he holds a stead quiet diligence. Always watching, protective of those he cares for. He’s hardworking and incredibly resilient.

However, there was a joke you read about catchers being stubborn because what person willingly and stubbornly sits in the same position game after game. You can greatly agree to the hidden stubborn streak Frankie holds, like stubbornly telling you he was going to fix your ceiling fan and then getting pissy when you had Benny simply do it for you.

But stubborn or not, Frankie has been the most perfect and openly communicative partner. Even with the long distance between you and him, he has always been a phone call away. He even stepped away from a pregame warm up when you called him crying and upset.

Your heart tries not to burst just thinking about him.

Then you catch a glimpse of him sliding his protective mask on, and your throat gets dry.

The first time you went to a game and witnessed Frankie in full catcher mode, you almost didn’t think it was him. The mask covered his face most of the time and the gear almost made him seem bigger.

It’s been many games since that first match, yet he still takes your breath away.

The mask covers most of his face, but you can still catch peaks of him. It does something to you knowing it’s him beneath it.

Now he takes the field in his new lovely blue catcher’s gear.

The chest guard extenuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. And if you thought baseball pants did amazing things for men’s legs and butts, the catcher’s leg guards highlight Frankie’s gloriously thick thighs and study legs.

Pride absolutely courses through you watching him behind the plate and warming up with the dodger’s pitcher.

“Come on, catfish!” Someone from the crowd even yells his famous nickname, and your lips twitch fondly.

With your Morales jersey on, you cheer loud and exhilarated when the game starts.

Frankie is unwavering behind the plate, rarely letting any wild pitch get past him. He earns the love of his new team fast.

Especially when he goes up to bat.

The walk up song he picked to play in the stadium is Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog, and the crowd cheers electrified when it booms loud over the speakers.

As hot as Frankie looks in his catcher’s gear, seeing him in the base uniform, with his batter’s helmet on, working on his swing just amplifies the strength of his shoulder and amazing arms - you’re in awe of how absolutely gorgeous he is.

He ends up striking out, but you still cheer loud and with reassurance.

“Looking good, Morales!” You even scream, and you swear you see his lips twitch fighting a grin.

The Cardinals take the lead fast with two runs. The game becomes a slow claw to catch up. By the fifth the score hasn’t changed with St. Louis leading. But then the bats get hot and the dodgers manage to get on the board to tie.

The game heads to the bottom of the eight inning and the atmosphere dances electrified with the hope of a chance.

Eventually two players get on base with two outs, a very dangerous situation.

And Frankie goes up to bat.

You along with the rest of your section close by the field stand to cheer him and the rest of the team on.

This is a chance to score.

The first pitch comes too high.

The second speeds in, a sharp inside pitch that has Frankie swinging a strike.

It stings, but it’s a good swing. Plus there’s still time, more pitches. You reassuringly rally behind Frankie hoping just an inch of your words reach him among the buzz of the game.

The pitcher throws the next pitch, a wild breaking ball.

Frankie swings. The bat hits the ball with a rattling whack sending it zooming right along the first base line.

The stadium erupts wild. You scream watching Frankie run to first then watching a player run in, scoring the run. Francisco’s hit brought in the lead.

Your favorite player now on first base screams jubilant and punches the air elated.

The excitement of seeing Frankie bring the run in, seeing him so exuberant…it’s a moment coated in a glimmering confetti that cements into your soul.

The start of the ninth inning comes, and Frankie emerges behind the plate, your armored hero.

If the Dodgers manage to hold the Cardinals, they’ll win.

Each pitch, each play, has you on the edge of your seat.

At one point the batter for St. Louis hits a foul ball. Frankie flips off his mask, allowing for sight to catch the ball.

Of course the ball soared over the net into the stands unable for him to maybe catch it. But without his catcher mask on, you’re rewarded a glimpse of his gorgeous face.

Frankie’s traditional catcher’s helmet keeps his hair flat, hidden, but it highlights his strong features, that beautiful nose of his and his perfectly classic scruffy Frankie beard.

Then seeing him covered in sweat, your mind can’t help but flash to images of him in bed sweaty, his face blissed out and panting. Your mouth waters just thinking about your tongue dragging across his sweaty neck and tasting the salt of him-

You immediately snap yourself of the too heated thoughts when the crowd yells upset at a bad call.

With a runner on base now and two outs, the tension piles on as dread trickles in.

Soon enough the cardinal’s batter makes a solid hit. The ball gets fired up high in the air.

Then center field rushes in and catches the ball.

Game over.

Dodgers win.

The stadium overflows with excited pride, and you happily embrace the atmosphere in all its warmth.

You don’t move from your spot, too hypnotized by Frankie who beams with the brightest smile while he celebrates with his new teammates.

You feel prouder than ever to wear his jersey.

The third baseman's wife, who you clicked with earlier, brightly tells you to follow her so she can show you to the locker room. You readily go.

Excitement electrifies every inch of the place. Even though you feel slightly awkward being here for the first time, no one seems to pay you attention.

Until you hear someone shout your name.

When you turn to spot Frankie, he's in gear looking intimidating and sexy wearing his chest guard and protective leg gear. Heading down from the dugout, your catcher rushes over to you. Like a magnet, almost like sensing a tug at your soul, you instantly move towards him.

Frankie collides into you solid, all encompassing as he gathers you into your arms squeezing you tight.

“You need to get out of your gear, Morales!” You laugh.

“It’s fine. Bebita, you’re gonna have to keep coming to the games now. I’ve told ya, you’re my good luck charm.” Frankie’s voice sounds like the bright sun from today’s game still shines brilliantly in it.

You hug him back, spilling nothing but praise.

“You were amazing! I’m so proud of you!” You gush.

You’re already thinking of how to celebrate.

“Marry me.” Frankie says simply that you think you maybe misheard him.

“Frankie honey, what?” Curiosity has you about pulling away from his grasp. Instead Frankie clutches onto you even more.

He says your name. “I…fuck I don’t have the ring with me here, and I know just sprang this up but-“

“You wanna marry me?” Your voice wavers, cutting him off.

You and him have talked about the future, a tentative slow swim treading the possible waters. Frankie’s mentioned buying an apartment together. He’s made the joke, lightly teasing, about you one day becoming a baseball wife.

You had held onto all these small edges of hope. It now all unfurls beautifully overwhelming.

“Yeah baby, but only if you’ll have me.” Frankie nods, his voice thick as he finally draws back out of your arms to get down on one knee.

You wonder if this is a dream you’ve slipped into.

Asking this still in uniform is so Frankie, and your eyes spill over with tears. You nod yes, and your favorite baseball catcher springs to life bolting up to kiss you.

You forgot you’re still in a very open and public setting until all the gasps and excited claps fill the space.

Taking it all in stride you warmly laugh it off letting Frankie hold you close to his side. His eyes even shimmer, precious earth stones.

The evening feels soaked in joy like a beautiful watercolor dream.

You urge your favorite baseball player to go eat dinner with his team, celebrate. But he leans down to whisper in your ear -

“I wanna eat my fiancée’s pussy for dinner.”

Your knees almost give out that second.

Frankie and you barely make it to his truck before he’s drawing you into the backseat, clawing at you, frantically. And you’re just as bad.

You want him inside you. But as promised, Frankie maneuvers you to sit up for him to crawl between your legs. The position is cramped, but you could care less.

Your sweet Frankie, who normally loves to take his time, tear you apart with the most focused and patient ease, now is replaced by a man wild who grips your thighs so tight and laps at your clit messy. You come ridiculously fast on his skilled fingers and feverish tongue feasting on you.

You whine unbearably needy for him, can't go on anymore without him inside of you.

Frankie shifts to sit on the back seat and keep you close while you slide on top of his cock. His stretch in you rips a fire up your spine and you moan as your eyes close.

“Mi amor, my future wife.” Frankie’s voice fills the heated sweaty space with a gilded reverence, and you scramble to kiss him.

Your future husband.

You were slightly worrie about Frankie being tried from his game, but the way he frantically fucks up into you reminds you of a man compeltely possessed. His hands grab you as if he’s worried you’ll float away.

“God, I fucking love you…gonna marry you,” Frankie mumbles, pussy drunk.

You feel just as drunk and reborn as he does, melting into this love.

Your climax knocks you breathless, a blazing star, and Frankie is not far behind.

You don’t move off him and with the way his arms tighten around you, he’s alright with you staying simply close to him as possible.

“You said you had a ring?” You ask tentatively, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” Frankie chuckles. “Bought it the day after you face timed me about that cute dog you saw at the store.”

That was a year ago. Your heart feels like it’s blooming a new world right in your chest, and you curl closer into him.

“Thought about proposing to you when I picked you up at the airport yesterday, but you were so tired baby.” He softly says, his hands a warm cocoon around you.

“And today…fuck seeing you cheering in the stands, hearing you. It just got me to more.”

Curiously, you ask what he means.

Frankie, confident as he is on the field, is still so shy, especially now as he burrows his face into your shoulder.

“I mean…I just want to see you at every game. Wanna come home to you. Then just thinking about that, and seeing you wearing my jersey, maybe having it as your last name-”

You rush to kiss him quickly, overtaken by so much adoration and love for this man. The thought had come once, or twice, about being a Morales yourself. You even tell him that.

“Yeah, you ready to be mine officially?” His voice drops low and silky.

You nod moving to kiss his cheek, then rest your face against his.

A soft moment passes while his warm hands rub against every inch of you he can reach.

“Know it’s still early to even talk about wedding shit or living arrangements, but just wanna take care of you, that’s all.” Frankie says firm. “I’ve joked about it but… you could quit your job tomorrow, move out here this weekend, and I’d be fucking over the moon. But I also want you to have your own path too.”

You think of Frankie, your stable ever loving and giving Francisco. His heart shines beautiful right here, right now. It’s like a live wire dances on your skin. Everything still feels intense. Maybe the sensation and rawness of becoming engaged has your mind feeling deliciously fuzzy.

“Just want you Frankie, that’s all.” You breathe those words letting them sink past your bones.

You softly kiss him, love sick syrupy drunk again.

It’s a promise to talk about this more later, about the possibility of living among the California weather with your future husband, it’s a dream you want to soak in.

But it summons up another dream, a sticky hot desire that crawls its way up.

“You remember that fantasy I told you about?” So dazed and in love, your thoughts slip out.

Frankie groans clutching onto you tighter.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he sighs. “Trying to fuck me in my gear, before a game.”

“Yeah but that was before when I was just your girlfriend.” You coo already feeling your body slowly roll against him.

“As your wife maybe I could-”

Frankie swiftly cuts you off, kissing you so fast that it rattles your bones, and it’s beautiful.

You laugh feeling like maybe you’re the one who truly won tonight.

[groovy-rat-man]

Okay so I don't know jack dick about coding so if this isn't how video games work feel free to yell at me but basically my idea is that when you die outside your own game YOU don't regenerate but someone else does.

When characters leave their game their code still exists so there's no reason to worry, but when they die and don't come back then the game becomes truly unplayable. To circumvent this, the game creates a shiny new version of the character with whatever code was used to spawn everyone in when they were first plugged in. They show up wherever they first started out and have none of their memories except those that were programed in. Kinda like if you got hit by a bus on the way to work and your boss just stuck a clone of you at your desk and all your coworkers just had to act like that wasn't the most horrific thing ever.

(I also imagine that something similar happens when a game is unplugged and plugged back in again, although I don't know if it would replace ALL of the characters or just the ones that didn't get out in time.)

I might make an edgy little comic or fic about this or something but I'm warning y'all now it's going to suck ass.

I have a really edgy wreck it ralph theory but im not awake enough to explain it right now, I'll get back to yall in a sec

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Gonna be real under the cut

As someone who has been bullied all of my schooltime because I was too awkward, too fat, because my dad left us, because of how my hair looked, because I was wearing the same pants for two days in a row, because I had respect for my teachers, because i never had a boyfriend, because i didn't drink....

I am so glad the internet wasn't around back then.

If shit like what is happening currently in this fandom would have been happened to me twenty years ago?

I don't want to imagine what I would have done to make it stop.

Bullies have always been the same.

Mirroring their insecurites on someone who thinks won't fight back (or in this day and age can't because you can't censor the internet and reporting will only get you so far)

If you are one of the people "confessing" on that certain blog

You are nothing more than a bully.

If you have a problem with someone and don't want to use the block button for whatever reason, you get into the inbox of the person you feel is "mistreating you" and ask them why. You don't go around sending hateful messages hiding behind the anonymity this website provides under the impression that it's "confessing".

If you genuinely feel offended that not everyone (of the so called big blogs) talks to you, that you're not instantly are getting the notes on the fics you post, that you don't have enough followers, that you dont feel welcome in a fandom....

Things like this can take years.

And it takes work. It takes constant writing. It takes constant making gifs. Constant making art.

And yeah sometimes people chose to not reblog other fics/content? So what? Big deal. No one has to!

Like it is some kind of obligation once you hit your made up big blog follower number to reblog every single content from anyone. wtf?

Of course things mutuals post get reblogged more often, because they are on our dashboards.

Personally I used to find new writers/fics by going into the Pedro tag. The tag that is now swamped with hatefull "confessions" so I just don't go looking anymore. You think this will get you the exposure you want to?

Maybe it will, but not in the way you have been dreaming of.

And you bet your ass we are gonna reblog our shit as often as we want to. . And if I want to reblog my own fic twenty times because i am proud of it? Not your problem. The unfollow and block button is there for a reason. USE IT.

Because, newsflash, these are our own fucking blogs and we can do whatever we want with it

Like you.

Who choses to bully people for the fucked up reasons your little brains think are valid.

But bullying is never okay and I hope one day you realize and care that you actually hurt people. Sometimes to a point where you can't be sorry anymore cause they're gone.

I guess what I wanna say with this post is grow up.

And don't even get me started on how people over the age of 30 are creepy for still being in fandom.

You do know what a hobby is, right?

The majority of the content you love so much would be gone if we all would be gone. Maybe keep that in mind the next time you get into some inbox to call people out you never have bothered to get to know in the first place.

[its-time-to-write]

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room. 

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end. 

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in. 

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers. 

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!” 

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation. 

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand. 

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly. 

There’s a ���WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring. 

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone. 

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his. 

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again. 

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her. 

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them. 

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Office Party Challenge 🎉

The following are prompts including an Office Party! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🎊 Prompts 🎊

It’s a BAU kid’s birthday!

The BAU throws a ridiculously large/lavish bridal/baby shower.

It’s rare that the BAU gets to celebrate the return of an old team member.

The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B.

After sharing sad prom stories (or lack thereof), Penelope throws a BAU prom.

It’s characters first Missed Holiday Meal (MHM). It’s also the first time a holiday meal actually felt like home.

The team discusses holiday traditions. Characters decide to try a few out.

The FBI is throwing a family picnic. The playful competitions get a little… heated.

It’s the anniversary of the BAU. The team throws a party to celebrate the greats.

Penelope planned a Murder Mystery party… with a bunch of criminal profilers. Great. (Bonus if a non-profiler wins)

The BAU has been dealing with a lot of stress. Penelope plans a day at a pottery shop so everyone can make something. It causes even more stress.

The team pairs up to play the newlywed game. Someone starts to notice that, despite not being partners, A knows the answers to every question about B…

Rossi is finally (actually) retiring. The party brings together friends that haven’t seen each other in years.

An anniversary/award brings back old team members. There used to be a time when they couldn’t fathom a week away from one another, but they haven’t spoken in years.

More Prompts Below + Create your own! 🎉

Each team member has to find an obscure holiday to celebrate (pi day, random acts of kindness day, unicorn day, etc.). Character goes above and beyond.

Character has very surprising responses to Never Have I Ever. They have even more shocking admissions.

There is nothing that a bonfire can't fix.

Characters are stuck at a party, but they can't stop thinking about each other (based on "Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier).

Characters always find each other. Even at a masquerade, when their faces are almost entirely covered.

A party is the perfect place to see a new side to your coworker.

🎄 Holiday Specific Prompts 🦃

Halloween prompts / Winter Holiday prompts

It’s time for Penelope���s Halloween Party! Someone comes in an… unexpected costume.

The single members of the team decide to host a lonely hearts club dinner on Valentine’s Day. Two people leave together.

Characters end up beneath very suspiciously placed mistletoe at the holiday party.

Character accidentally started an ugly Christmas sweater tradition which somehow turned into a contest.

After an awful case, the team comes back on Christmas Eve to find that Penelope has gathered their loved ones and quickly decorated the BAU as a surprise.

Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.

🎂 Dialogue Prompts 🍰

"... Surprise?"

"What are adults supposed to do at a kid's birthday party. Does anyone actually know?"

"Whatever you do, be sure to avoid the food. I don't know who made it, but it's awful." "Oh, it uh... it was me."

"If you help me win, I'll owe you one great big giant favor."

"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

"I think you're bluffing." "Am I?"

"You are the last person I expected to have attended clown school. I figured your clownish nature was inherent in who you are."

"So, if you had to guess, who do you think is going to drunkenly confess their love for someone else at this party?"

"The year is over. Did you accomplish everything you hoped for?"

"I fucking hate balloons."

"What's the point of a fridge on the jet if not for a celebratory drink?"

"If we're stuck here all night, we might as well have fun."

"I love you. I do. But you are a terrible Santa."

"Next time, I'm in charge of the karaoke mic."

🎈Rules 🎁

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

[dragon-queen21]

Umm, I want to request autistic agere Zoro. I think Zoro would get overwhelmed and try to hide it from everyone. I also think he would love taking naps on the grass of the Sunny (Texture).

I also think that Franky would compliment him once and then he would just seek out Franky because yes. Also Franky is a SUPER big brother and Zoro needs to be held.

Zoro would also naturally avoid the stairs at all costs. Baby doesn't want to see the, be near them, and will cry if someone's on them.

He cuddles with Chopper during nap time because fluffy doctor=satisfied patient. He would also love listening to Brook play the violin away from commotion because he has sensitive hearing.

Cries when yelled at. Confused with affection but gets used to it. Tries to wear as little clothes as possible unless the texture is nice. Hates things around his neck.

He needs to be around each crew member at least an hour of every day watching them. Has a good sense of smell except when it comes to BO. Baby likes staying clean. Baby will drink the blood of baby's enemies if offered (mistakes it for juice).

Sorry for having you read all this, it's just, in my mind eating me alive.

No apologies I am always open to getting rambles from people about favorite characters, headcanons, anything really :3 If anyone should be apologizing it’s me for taking so long to answer you. Sorry about that with halloween asks and just general irl stuff my brain has been all over the place.

Tw for unintentional self harm

~I feel like he would get overwhelmed while big, end up regressing involuntarily, and now that Zoro is small, still be overwhelmed because everything that was causing him to be overwhelmed in the first place is there only it feels like it multiplied tenfold.

~I bet that has confused so many crewmates when a once content Zoro just bursts into tears when they are coming down the stairs. Does he just not want to see them? Overwhelmed by something? Just felt like crying anyways? Returned to normal Zoro would never admit to what makes him so upset so the crew is left to guess and wonder.

~Franky would probably be so good at dealing with meltdowns, because he can just, pick Zoro up even if the regressor is flailing around and take him somewhere to calm down. (Also Franky would call him a little rapscallion)

~Overwhelmed by clothing texture and the feeling of wanting to tear your own skin off. Yeah probably just stays shirtless most of the time. Maybe with a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape if he gets cold.

~He would probably pick at his skin or nails a lot. Best solution to this? Chopper :3 Can’t be picking at your skin if you are cuddling and petting a small fluffy reindeer

~Also Luffy would 100% call stimming by some funny name, like happy flaps and would probably mimic what Zoro does (not in a mean way, I don’t know how to exactly put it)

~He absolutely has a favorite story that Usopp tells and would ask for that exact story to be told to him whenever he’s small

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c29. Salvatore

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mentions of death, depression, eating disorders.

song to listen to when reading this: Se piovesse il tuo nome, Calcutta e Elisa.

abstract: it's Simon. do you know who this friend is? cause I've never seen him, I don't know… I don't like him. anyway, this chapter is all about him, you don't even need me here. this story is not about me anymore, I guess. salvo can talk to you next time, you know. since alba likes him so much. pff…

At the airport, Alba was scared to fall asleep standing up. It was a hour and a half drive from her place to the airport, and after the meeting, having to deal with an overexcited Kyle that wanted to talk to her, she felt exhausted. She realised mid drive he kinda asked her out and she brushed him off like nothing. 'I think me and a few others are going out later for drinks' he had said, walking her outside, 'You should come!' She used the opportunity to turn around and look through the glass doors, trying to find him. Are you doing out as well? Where are you when I need you? She chuckled and unlocked her car door. 'Thanks, I think I'll pass…' she tried to remain vague. He wasn't giving up. 'Why? You know, it could be good to get to know each other better, we're working together and all…' She finally looked at him, his charming and relaxed expression. She gave him a smile, trying to repress the internal screaming in her head. 'I need to go pick up a friend from the airport, but thanks for the invite.' He seemed surprised, but kept his cool. 'Well, your friend can come too!' She laughed again, but turned her back to him. 'Bye Kyle, have fun.' She heard him laugh while closing the car door. 'I'm gonna figure you out Judy!' He was saying. You wish.

She waited patiently for Salvo to appear out of the sliding doors of the airport, she ran to him when she saw him. He looked like he had been sleeping on the plane, hair messy, dark circles but a dumb lazy smile on his face. He took her in her arms squeezing her tight. 'Ciao bella mia…'She laughed and let out a long sigh. 'Ciao 'more…' She helped him with his bags, but he wanted to look at her for a few more seconds. 'Stai di merda chicca, che succede?' He said, to which she let out a loud groan. He had said she looked like shit. I'm gonna tell you in the car, she replied. Salvo was an handsome guy. He had beautiful curly hair, he had big and full lips, kind, round puppy eyes. He was tall, he was fun, he was outgoing. He was the kind of guy to get along with everyone, made everyone fell comfortable. When she didn't feel comfortable enough to speak, he would fill all her silences. When she got angry, he would always calm her down. When he was down, she was his biggest fan. He was the sun, she was the moon. She let herself go completely with him, and he felt blessed by her presence. He was blessed to see the real Alba, who sang out loud to Disney musicals and old Italian traditional songs. Who let herself be vulnerable and open. He had always been true to her, always supported her, but always told her his truthful opinions on stuff and when he felt she was making mistakes. He had always her wellbeing at heart. They gossiped together like teenagers, they talked about the past, trauma and what not, his family treated her like one of them. They were both from the south, hospitality was a big thing for them. He knew everything about her. They facetimed one of Salvo's sisters in the car, she just had a baby, making her Aunty Alba. Zia Alba. They didn't know her as Alba, obviously, they knew her real name. They knew everything, they still wanted her in the family. Even if they knew who she really was, they still liked her, they still loved her. Una Pentita. Collaboratrice di Giustizia. Traditrice.

He talked about Korea, how the past four months went. He was tired, he was glad he saw his family. He asked about her new job or whatever, that's when she felt like collapsing. 'È una merda, Salvo…'she helped him unload the car with his luggage, bringing it upstairs. 'Sto imparando l'alfabeto, dopodomani inizio e non ho idea di che cazzo devo fare…' Jinx greeted Salvo with loud barks and his tail wiggling like crazy. Salvo was enthusiast to see the dog, which was just a shy puppy when he first started coming round at her house. 'Se sanno che non sai veramente il croato perchè ti hanno dato questo lavoro?' He asked, sitting down on the couch, Jinx following him and trying to climb on his lap. She sat down beside him, let out a sigh. She explained she had a feeling something was going on. She felt like she was being lied to. When Jinx finally settled down she was able to rant a bit. She revealed things weren't going so well, her schedule was going to be tight. She had sessions all day, she had two hours of listening post duties during lunch break, four more to fit through the day, either before ballet or in the early morning, before her therapy sessions. She had Pre Ballet class with the little girls two times per week, her other group three times. And the best part?

'Sai chi si è fatto male?'

'Chi?'

'Quella troia di Rachel Montana'

'Cazzo dici…'

Rachel Montana was an higher level dancer, she was 24. She was from the oldest group the school had which ranged from 20 year olds to 27. She had been at the school since she was in diapers. The bitch had all the best roles all the time. Skinny, blonde, basic pink Barbie bitch. She went around saying Alba wasn't good enough for teaching, her tattoos were ugly, and all the ear piercings... She was too old for ballet. She said she wasn't in enough good shape to be a teacher, her flexibility wasn't too great either. Last year, there was this very good looking photographer at the theatre they were having the final performance in. Noah, so so handsome. Rachel was pissed at the fact he seemed more interested in taking pictures of Alba rehearsing with the kids than her dancing. Well, Alba and Noah hooked up in an empty dressing room the night of the show, Rachel spread the word. Fucking bitch. Well, princess Rachel, she was telling Salvo, broke her arm skiing with her rich dad in Switzerland. 'No fucking way…' She reached for the table to get her tabacco, grinder and cardboard filters. 'Guess who's playing Snow Queen this year?' The girl asked.

'Who, Angie? Is it Maggie?'

'No stupid, it's me.' She revealed. Salvo congratulated her in shock, but Alba soon confessed it wasn't really a good thing. Snow Queen was an extremely difficult role, her pointe shoe work wasn't good, her flexibility was worse than her fifteen year old students. When she heard the news she felt faint, they only picked her cause they could not be bothered to teach the choreos to someone else. Plus, everyone always said Rachel was too young to be playing Snow Queen. 'So basically you're actually in the show, you're not just teaching.' She nodded. 'Honey, you got a lot on your plate…' She made him some dinner, mainly leftovers, they smoked a bit of weed. He took a shower and got ready to sleep. They laid in the dark of Alba's room under the covers, facing each other. She touched his hand, comforting him, while he whispered about deployment, about how tired he felt, how he missed home. How he felt that career wasn't for him anymore. She felt his breathing getting heavier, but the sleepiness didn't stop him from asking her one last question. 'Mi devi dire di lui…'

She chucked, 'Who?' and he clicked his tongue. 'You know who. I want to know how you did it.'

'Did what Salvo? Literally nothing happened…'

'So what? I want to know, you guys basically went on a date!'

'Not true...'

'No, è vero chicca… se c'era una persona che poteva infognarsi con uno del genere eri tu…'

She spoke even though she wasn’t sure if he was asleep. She told him everything, even to go over the details herself. She said he knew where her office was, her apartment, her workplace. He knew what car she drove. She said he went to see her every time they had spoken, she initiated conversation only one time. He wanted to see her, that's what she thought. He was kind, he was gentle and considerate. He liked asking her about her life, he didn't like answering her questions. He was diligent and he looked like he would say yes to everything she says. He remembered details, he never ever tried to touch her in any way after the hug at the ballet school. She said she liked Simon. She liked that she couldn’t really figure him out, she liked it was kinda obvious she was the first woman he had went out with, in a while at least. She even liked they weren’t really putting a label on what they were doing because he was so awkward. She said that she could see how damaged he must have been in the past, it was the thing that kinda kept her from getting closer to him. She already had her shit to think about. She said she would wait and see, they would probably stop seeing each other around at some point. She acted like that didn’t make her a tiny bit sad.

notes: i am OBSESSED with this song, here, let me translate:

If in the streets or in all this mess,

It rained you name, I would like to drink it, one letter at a time

translations: 'Ciao bella mia…' Hi my beautiful… 'Ciao 'more' short for ciao amore, which means hi love. it's normal for very close friends to call each other love in a non romantic way. only in certain settings tho not all the time!! 'more sure we can get a coffee later. nooo, 'more I'm sorry that happened.

'È una merda Salvo…' it's shit, Salvo. Sto imparando l'alfabeto, dopodomani inizio e non ho idea di che cazzo devo fare…' 'I'm learning the alphabet, i start in two days and I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do…'

'Sai chi si è fatto male?' (Do you know who got injured?)

'Chi?' (Who?)

'Quella troia di Rachel Montana' (That Rachel Montana bitch)

'Cazzo dici…' (You're fucking joking)

translations: 'Mi devi dire di lui…' you have to tell me about him.

È vero chicca… se c'era una persona che poteva infognarsi con uno del genere eri tu…'

but it's true chicca, if there was one person that could get involved with someone like him, it had to be you. chicca has no translation, it's like saying baby, but more friendly. chicco is the male version, it stands for something small and cute, for example to say grain of rice, we say chicco di riso.

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

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[gayerthanevertbh]

runaway “bride” | i want you pt. 8

natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation

pairings: older!natasha romanoff x young!fem reader

summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can word out your love for each other properly.

warnings: sensitive topics (abortion), fighting (like tons), heavily detailed angst, scared reader, slight attraction, and more - MINORS DNI.

notes: good luck xx :)

NATASHA'S POV:

I've always found that drinking and smoking go well together. It causes me to lose track of my true emotions. As if I'm in a different dimension where no one knows how I feel or what I want. Moreover, I never imagined I would be so hurt in my life when Y/n acknowledged that she wanted to abort our child. I was completely unable to bear the excruciating pain she inflicted on me. Therefore, a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes were my companions when I returned home while Y/n was away.

"You're drinking again."

Turning over my shoulder, Steve was leaning against the door with his hair ruffled everywhere on his head. I assumed that he went out today to grab a drink with his friends, causing him to look like that. I smiled wearily at him, knowing that I got his daughter pregnant.

"Just having a rough night, I guess."

He simply sighed, took a bottle of beer from the cooler next to the rickety table, and walked over to where I was sitting on the couch. He handed the bottle to me and I gratefully accepted it. I then opened the lid and downed the beer.

As he goes to get a beer for himself, he remarks, "Y/n's been weird lately. She's been distant with me and always out of the house, I don't know how to deal with that."

I looked at him briefly, before turning and gazing at the big painting on the wall instead. "She's probably just being a teenager, Steve."

"Yeah, I know that. But we're close," he claims. "Like really close, she tells me everything. And now it's like we don't know each other anymore. Is it because I'm trying to make Bucky be with her? I just don't want her to live in a–"

"Do you maybe think that she doesn't want her love life to be forced?" I questioned, which almost comes off as patronizing. "What do you mean?" he enquired as his eyebrows furrowed in my direction.

"Maybe she wants true love," I said. "Like, real love. Not the kind of love where you try to pair up with two people that would never even work out. Sure, Bucky's her best friend. But I know that look in Y/n's eyes, and she is not in love with him."

"How are you so sure, anyway?"

I licked my bottom lip and sighed. "Don't know, she's just... different."

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he finally spoke: "I know my daughter, Natasha. She's not like this."

"I'm not saying that you don't know your daughter, but maybe you should support whatever she wants in life."

He shakes his head at me and says, "All I want is for everyone here to be happy."

"And maybe she won't be happy if she chooses Bucky to be his boyfriend."

"Why are you talking like this with me? It's like you know my daughter all your life. Like you're her mother."

Because I'm in love with your daughter and got her fucking pregnant.

I made a small effort to speak, but nothing came out. I was at a loss for words and had no choice but to merely glare at him in response. He gave me a dubious look, but I could tell there was something shrieking through his bones behind those eyes.

Then, I felt my heart clenching with pure affliction. If I keep staring at him, the guilt will eat me up – and it's beginning to do so. I looked down at my bottle and choked out a sob, which made him scoot closer to me.

"Hey, hey... are you okay?" he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder, which I do not deserve. "What happened? Did she tell you something?"

I am aware that once I tell him about my relationship with his daughter, I will lose our friendship, possibly even more, but I'm not sure if I was mentally prepared for that great loss. Before she came into my life, I swore to Steve that I would never betray him by any possibility. And now, with the information that I will tell him, I know that I've betrayed him a long time ago.

You always can't have both when it comes to love.

"I'm in love with your daughter," I whispered with trembling breath. "I'm so fucking in love with your daughter that I got her pregnant, Steve. I love Y/n so much, and I'm fucking drinking away this shit because she's aborting our baby."

I'd never heard such deafening silence until this happened. He had wide eyes as he stared at me and was holding my shoulder so firmly in his hand. But I didn't give a damn. I turned my head away from him as I wiped my tears with the back of my hind, almost letting snot come out of my nose. I could feel his hard breathing on me, and I was prepared to be punched by him. At the end of the day, I never get what I truly want from my life. I've lost everything, including my first love. And now I'm about to lose this security with his daughter and I don't know how I can function right with that.

"Say that again."

I gasp for air as I look back into his eyes and then take a deep breath. "I'm in love with your d-daughter, Steve."

"No, enlighten me as to what you said following that."

"I got your daughter pregnant," I looked down from my lap and cracked out another sob. "I got your daughter pregnant and I'm so sorry."

He lets go of my shoulder and stands up, walking away from me. He covers his mouth, as if not believing what I just said, and threw his hands in the air angrily. I looked away again.

"You got my fucking daughter pregnant?!" I feared Maisy and Antonio would be startled awake by his screams as they filled the entire house. He screamed at me while pointing his index finger at me, "You got my only daughter pregnant and have the audacity to tell this to me knowing that I won't be happy with this?!"

"W-What else can I do?" I asked as I stood up, facing my true fears. This was, in fact, my true fear. It has been beholding me like a gift, except that it really wasn't. "I couldn't help myself, I fell in love with her the day that we grew close."

"And how was she when you fell in love with her? What, 16? 15?!"

"No, I would not ever do that–"

"You shouldn't say that to me after I've sacrificed everything for you," he shouts and roams around the living room like a crazed man. He cries while pulling his hair back from his head. "I thought you would be a good auntie to my daughter, and I trusted you with her, but you took advantage of her innocence! You are aware of how Y/n spent her childhood growing up with her mother. I had thought you would be that person for her, but you ended up making her pregnant. Have you ever considered how I might feel about this? You were the only one I could trust with her, and that's no longer the case! You are GONE!"

"Steve," my chest hurts from the sobs I've let out, and I could only sit back down with great despair hitting me like a truck, a very big one. "I-I'm sorry, I know it shouldn't have happened but... it did. We fell in love, she loves me. And I love her, I can't help but love her like that."

I had not anticipated watching a father receive the news that his daughter had become pregnant with his best friend, much less falling in love with a woman myself. He was one of the many people I could trust and truly was my best friend. And the more I touched Y/n every minute, the more I realized I was losing that position. But if I could lose one person today, it would be him.

But it's like losing a family in a single motion, and I'm not sure how I'd manage this pain beating out of my chest.

"Natasha," he breathes out my name as he covers both of his eyes with his hands, choking out another sob. All I wanted to do was hug him, tell him that I was deeply sorry, and maybe work things out along the way. But that wouldn't happen, not at this moment. "She needed you as a mother, not her lover."

"She loves me more than that," I mumbled. "We love each other, and I don't want that to stop. I know I-I'm being selfish, but for once in my life–I'm happy. I'm so happy, Steve."

"But you shouldn't be happy with my daughter."

He was right about that.

I sadly smiled and said, "She's the most perfect human being in the world. Who could resist being in love with her? I don't blame Bucky for that even, she's too perfect. She's the one for me, and I'm sorry that I had to tell you this way."

Steve sat down again, this time facing the other way. I imagine he didn't like the idea of sitting next to me, so I did the same. I'm left in the dark after he takes a single piece of paper off the coffee table and scrawls some words on it. As soon as he was finished, he handed it to me, and I silently read the paper.

We can't choose who we love, can we?

This note had a peculiar mixture of contempt and relief. I kept looking at the paper with tears welling up in my eyes because I was unable to decide which emotion to feel. A few tears fell onto the sheet, and I quickly wiped them away with my hand. "What does this mean?" I asked him as I turned to face him. "Why did you write this?"

He leaned back and murmured something under his breath while heaving a trembling sigh.

"Because if I say it out loud, I do not know if I would mean it."

I nodded, a great deal of internal pain causing my throat to bob. Y/n felt more significant to me than my friendship with him, even though I was aware that I was going to lose his trust. I have the option to choose anyone to be my friend – but never love. And she is the object of my deep love; no matter what, it will always be for her. I firmly believe that it must be Y/n because I could never love someone this deeply in any other way.

"I would do anything for her, Steve."

He nodded slowly, accepting this kind of fate brought up to him abruptly. "Yeah," he said in his deep voice. "I know you would."

READER'S POV:

Natasha had not spoken or seen me in days, and I was dying for her to look at me again. But I can't force our fate, especially since she knew I was planning to abort the child inside of me. Those were lonely days for me. Every hour that passed made me wish it was night so I wouldn't have to think about her while trying to fall asleep. I would try to keep a safe distance between us by either being upstairs or at MJ's house when she was around. Though, I could no longer handle this pain – it was getting too much. Speak to me and let me know that you'll fully support my decision so that we can be happy again. Don't go away so fast, we haven't even finished our story yet.

I haven't seen my father either since the day he left for work, so it was just me, Natasha, Maisy, and Antonio in our lonely gardened house. But today felt different since my father came home drunk. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't even look me in the eye. Perhaps he was that intoxicated, so I left him alone in his bedroom. While walking back to the garden, I see MJ waiting for me outside. I ran towards her and asked, "What are you doing here? It's barely noon."

"I came here because–" she takes a deep breath before finishing her sentence. "Remember Wanda? Yeah, she's available now. She'll help you today."

"But, my father is here and he might be looking for me–"

"We don't have much time," she claims. "She'll be leaving tonight, so it's best if you come with me right now."

I was only hesitant to leave because I wasn't sure if I still wanted to have the baby out of my stomach, but I was afraid to say I did. So I nodded, grabbed my bag, and followed her to a place I didn't know.

When we got to the small house, a tall brunette woman was waiting for us outside. Her face looked dreary, yet she didn't look like a threat. Before I could introduce myself to her, she said: "You look young."

Her voice sounded condescending.

"I uhm..." I stumbled over my words and seemed to be left with no choice but to nod. She licks her lips before inviting me inside her house, which hardly even resembled one. In the corner, there was a bed and a long table covered in medical supplies. She motioned for me to sit, so I did so slowly at the edge of the bed while waiting.

"How old are you?" the woman asked.

"E-Eighteen," I responded quietly, almost as if it was a secret. She looked at me briefly before asking: "When was the last time you had sex?"

"I-I don't know, maybe six weeks ago."

"You did not do anything else after that? Did you take a plan B pill?"

Despite how overwhelming these questions were, I was compelled to answer each one. She also didn't look friendly, which only added to the nausea I already felt.

"N-No," I replied. "I didn't."

She looked at me quite skeptically before grabbing her clipboard and writing down something, since I cannot read it from here. MJ was a few feet away from me with her eyes roaming around the room, then back at me to check how I was holding up.

The woman had her hand on my knee and squeezed, acting kinder this time since I got a sense that she didn't appreciate me much. "Are you sure about this procedure? If you have any thoughts, let me know. But right now, I'll leave you be as you talk this out with your... friend I should say?"

"Yeah," MJ replied for me, nodding her head. "I'm her friend." The woman kindly smiled again before leaving us in the room, making my way towards MJ as I hugged her tight, face buried into her neck.

I have never been so scared in my life.

"Do you still want to do this?" she asked with a very soft tone, almost like a cat. "If you don't want to do this anymore, I can help you raise the baby. I'll always be here for you, you know that."

"I don't know anymore," I whispered into her neck, feeling my tears streaming down my face. "It's like I wanted to get rid of this thing yesterday and now I feel like I have the sense to keep it."

"You also have to think about yourself too, sweetheart." her words were so comforting, and it feels like I don't deserve them whatsoever. But she was openly saying these things to me and all I had to do was to accept it.

"I'm trying, I really am."

After a brief period of hugging, someone entered the room. When I looked at the door, Natasha was there, her brow furrowed by the doorframe. Her expression softened as she turned to look at MJ and then at me.

"Y-Y/n? Can we talk outside, please?"

I pulled away from MJ and whispered, "How did she know this place?" she only shrugs and steps back away from me, making Natasha pull my wrist gently as we go outside of the small house. I stood with a frail body and murmured, "W-What are you doing here?" even though I was still upset with her, I couldn't help but feel my heart beat slower when she was around.

"I just," she takes a deep breath and rubs the back of her neck. "C-Can we please think about this first? You're making a decision without me, that's my baby too."

"I really don't want to fight right now, Nat–"

"If you could just listen to me, maybe you'd change your mind." her hands were in the air in a beseeching gesture, and her voice sounded like she was pleading. Before I made the choice that would change my entire life, I took a moment to look at her and nod. She lets out a huge sigh of relief. "I know things have been rough with us, b-but this baby could probably change our life. It would make our relationship stronger, and we would be different. Good difference. And if you just give us time for each other, then maybe you'd change your mind."

"I don't know if I would want that, Natasha," I muttered, rubbing my elbow to help my anxiety ease. "We've been okay, until you didn't support my decision. What makes you say that our relationship would grow stronger if we keep ourselves hidden in the dark?"

"That's why I want to run away with you, so we could be open to everyone. So that we wouldn't be so scared anymore," Natasha cups both of my hands as she brought them to her dry lips, kissing my skin softly that I'm reminded of her undying love for me. "Just think about it. You and me, in a strange town where no one knows us, and us taking care of our beautiful baby? Once the baby's born, you can go back to college again. We can take care of our child–"

"If that ever happens, I won't be leaving a child behind," I interrupted her, furrowing my brows. What was she even saying? That I would go to college to pursue my dreams yet leave the baby that I never planned for? What kind of a mother would I be to do that? "That baby would need me more than my fucking future–"

"So let's say you don't go, okay? Let's just say you don't," she was getting agitated now as she moved closer to me until both of our foreheads touched. "I can work from home and take care of you and our baby, and be happy together... don't you want that? Be free and happy?"

"But lying to our loved ones? I don't think so, Natasha."

"Wait–"

I removed my hands away from hers before crossing my arms around myself, as if creating a safety net for myself. "And if we do keep the baby, will you be there?"

Natasha nodded happily, her grin getting wider as tears streamed down her face. "Of course," she whispered. "I'll be there every second, baby girl. Just... don't do this. We can run away right now and leave everything behind, don't you want that for the both of us? We can leave everything behind, beautiful."

I first gave it some thought. Sure, giving up everything to raise a child with her sounds like a wonderful experience. In fact, I was so close to wanting it. What harm would there be in that? I would sacrifice everything for the woman I love, but in return, everyone would despise me, even my distant father. Yes, that sounds fantastic. But yet, I couldn't say yes to it.

"Natasha..."

"I'll marry you, and be with you, and do whatever I want with you–"

"Natasha," before she could even kiss me, I placed my hand on her chest. I could feel it beating against my palm, and I almost wanted to kiss her back. But she kept our lip distance, yet they were so close to mind. "Tasha, I can't have that future with you."

She looked distraught. "W-Why?"

"Because I still want to achieve my dreams," I told her while smiling weakly at myself. "I want to finish college, be who I am, and maybe if time can tell, maybe it could bring me back to you. But for now, I don't think this would even work out between us."

"Y-You don't know what you're saying, detka," she sniffled, cupping my face desperately. It almost screams, please don't let me go, not now, not ever. But I push that away once more, trying my best to be brave for myself. "You don't know what you're saying, please don't do this."

"How can I let you love me when you don't even fully support my decision?" I asked with my voice quivering with woe, and she touched me even more. "How can I let that happen?"

For a while, we were silent, trying to savor the last few seconds of our proximity. And if she ever still decides to not support my decision, letting her go was the best choice. I would not be able to look at her if I thought about the words she used to describe me as an immoral, self-centered individual. How can I ever look at her the same way again? She presses our lips together, and I felt elation course through my veins. I was delighted to be kissed by her once more, to be the girl she has always cherished. That's what I always wanted to be.

"Then I will support you," she whispered with her mouth close to mine, aching to be kissed again. She looked down at me with those sorrowful eyes, yet smiled at me. "I-I will support you, Y/n. I just can't lose you yet."

Natasha held my hand throughout the procedure. I was crying with agony while she kissed my forehead, repeatedly telling me that everything was going to be okay. MJ was waiting outside since she was too frightened to see the process. As soon as it was done, Wanda told me to take some pills to help me ease the pain for the next couple of weeks. And before I left her house, Wanda gave my hand a tight squeeze, whispering: "Don't let her control your life."

These words resonated with me as Natasha walked me home. She couldn't possibly control my life, right? She was fully supportive when I told her that my school was a priority, so how can she control my life? While thinking about these thoughts silently, I heard her asking: "Do you want me to bring you to bed later?"

Y/n, everything will be fine. Just a few more seconds until the fetus comes out.

Trauma, pain, agony, or whatever the hell is in there. I hated it.

"Y-Yeah," I replied, pushing those thoughts away far away from my head. "I think I'd like that."

I did not see my father again that day, and I will not see him the following day either, as we will be leaving in a week. So I anticipated that he would meet some friends before we leave. I was in bed with Natasha while she spoke about her previous life in New York, how I influenced everything for her, and how she is now truly content. Something within me felt proud, but the majority of the time I felt terrible. Truly fucking horrible and truly fucking disgusting.

I regret what transpired with that child; I should not have had an abortion. I should've seen it grow, to become a wonderful child. And now it's gone.

whoops

taglist:  @trans-wolf-boi @generousfartdragon @marvelogic @that-one-gay-mosquito @wandanotsosure @madelineleong @kksalexa @karsonromanoff @natashaswife4125 @florojas @natashaxwife  @lovsalvatore @what-is-your-wish @natsxwife

[pricegouge]

Hello for your consideration on non-canonical drabbles: reverse AU where reader is a bear and regular human Price has to figure out how to deal with this big ass bear who just wandered into his bar like she wanted a drink. Bear reader just watching the game on the TV like she knows what's going on and chuffing whenever a player fucks up and Price trying to quietly dial animal control. OK love you bye

Her ass does not have a valid ID

Okay no actually for this to work I think the bar needs one of those garage door fronts he'll leave open in the summer: 

So chic. Anyway,

It's one of those days where like, sure. This may as well happen. 

First the hostess quits on the spot after some snooty tourist was mean to her, then a waitress flops a tray full of alcoholic drinks on a table with children present (turns out there's just no consoling a mother when her toddler smells like well vodka, who knew?), then a line cook set a wok on fire and panicked, nearly dumping it in the sink before Simon caught him.

So when the patio guests start screaming and running, John's initial thought is less 'isn't this how war of the worlds started?' and more 'there's the central air unit blown up.' It's a strange experience, going from from thinking you'd be prepared for anything because the day's already thrown so much at you, to watching the biggest bear you've ever seen in your life wandering through your overhead door. 

Through the general din and chaos of panic, she just keeps waddling forward, unbothered. Expecting her to sniff out the food, John darts through saloon doors and orders everyone to get the fuck out the back exit, Soap hot on his heels. Simon doesn't listen because he never does, instead keeps his big nose stuck through the serving hatch, watching raptly.

"Can we get the fuck out of here?" John hollers, but the big man is far too curious for his own good. 

"That's a big mama," he breathes, fully ignoring the way Soap keeps pushing at his arm in an attempt to move him. 

"Si, come on," Soap pleads.

"Why? She's not doing anything." 

Bewildered, John follows his line of sight through the port, briefly distracted by the relief of noticing everyone who'd been in the dining area has long since fled. But then the bear rears up and places her forepaws on his nice, custom bar top as if she's gonna climb up there and he huffs indignantly.

"Oi!" He hollers out to her. "Get down!" 

"Cap, can we no' nip the heid of the fockin' bear?" 

John pays him no mind. "That was expensive, thanks, get your grubby paws off it!"

He doesn't realize he's waving his arm out the window until Simon pulls him away bodily. 

"Roight, call animal control," he orders. John hopes he's talking to Soap, cause he's too busy glaring daggers at the beast.

She's uncowed. She snags a bite from an abandoned plate of chicken, movements oddly delicate. As she chews, she takes in her surroundings and seems to settle on the bright lights of the TV behind the bar, enraptured.

"Making 'erself quite cozy," Simon grumbles.

John nods, checking to be sure Soap is calling the proper authorities. "Should we stay to be sure she doesn't wander off unsupervised?"

"She's not very threatening," Simon hedges.

Indeed, the bear just huffs agitatedly as the announcer bemoans an away team goal from the TV. As if upset by the update, she consoles herself with another helping of  expensive entre.

"Bet she's no' even a good tipper," Soap gripes from Simon's other side.

"You've calmed down some, eh?"

"Well, as long as she stays over there, I guess it's okay."

"You don't think she's gonna follow her nose back here, do you?" John worries.

Simon cocks his head in consideration, then grabs the stuffed haddock from the fully prepped plate in front of him with his bare hand and hucks it through the window. John sighs as it smears across his counter, but the bear looks even more offended, staring back at Simon with uncannily accusive eyes.

"Don't think she likes you, mate," John laughs. At this, she looks at John and chuffs in apparent agreement.

"Shite she's a smart one," Soap laughs. "Almost feel bad fer callin' 'er in."

As if to prove just how smart she is, her head whips around to Soap and she grumbles her displeasure at his words, backing herself away from the bar until she falls to all fours with a weary huff. She waddles off, the screams from the street indicating she's heading back toward the edge of town. Soap ducks away to let animal control know she's on the move while Simon starts cleaning his fish mess. 

"Think I'll go shut that bay door."

next>>

[islandtarochips]

Call of Duty OC: Kanoa Toa 🇦🇸

Commission Art by @moonaliluna (not in tumblr but in instagram and tiktok) 🔼

The Captain of the US Marine Corps and the Leader of the Warriors Task Force. A man who has confidence for his team that they will protect and save the people from any threats. A funny guy to keep you smiling in any serious situations. And it questions everyone of how he became CAPTAIN with that kind of attitude.

UNIVERSE: Modern Warfare 2/Modern Warfare 3

General:

🇦🇸 Name: Kanoa Toa 🇦🇸 Alias(es): Noa, Alpha 6, Toa, Captain Funnypants (Only Tiala can call him that) 🇦🇸 Gender: Male 🇦🇸 Age: Early 30s 🇦🇸 Birthday: April 1st, 1990 🇦🇸 Nationality: United State National (American Samoa) 🇦🇸 Place of Birth: American Samoa 🇦🇸 Home: Kahaluu, Hawaii (Living with his sister) 🇦🇸 Spoken Languages: English, Samoan 🇦🇸 Sexuality: Heterosexual 🇦🇸 Occupation: Captain in the Marine Corps, Leader of the Warriors Task Force

Appearance:

🇦🇸 Eye Color: Dark Brown  🇦🇸 Hair Color: Black 🇦🇸 Height: 6’2”/187 cm 🇦🇸 Scars: Scar on his chest, back and on left side of his hips. 🇦🇸 Face Claim: Alex Tarrant

Favorites:

🇦🇸 Color: Any Shades of Green 🇦🇸 Food: Pani Popo and Luau Pipi 🇦🇸 Drink: Diet Coke 🇦🇸 Flower: Not into flowers but will get some for the pretty ladies 🇦🇸 Hairstyle: His hair are short so…don’t know what hairstyle he likes🤷

Personality:

🇦🇸 Myers Briggs Type: ESFP If you think that Kanoa is the kind of Captain who is VERY serious. You guessed wrong. First time meeting, when you salute him first and he’ll do it back. And give you a big HUG (He’s a hugger by the way). He will be the first responder without even THINKING. Like going into the battlefield not caring of other dangers but focusing on one main thing. Just like Tiala, he chooses his words carefully since he doesn’t want to upset or offend other people. He’s also an older brother figure for his comrades. Since he always bail them out from any troubles that they have caused. But he still needs to think of a punishment if they went TOO far. 🇦🇸 Hilarious: Kanoa is the most FUNNIEST guy you will ever met. He will always find a way to bring up some ridiculous story or jokes to his team. And they’ll laugh with him. And sometimes AT him too. 🇦🇸 Strong Common Sense: Even though Kanoa is the funniest and the nicest guy you’ve met. Don’t think that you can take him down so easily. He has good common sense. He trusts his own judgment but is open to other suggestions.

Negative Traits:

🇦🇸 Kanoa always so prideful for his team and his own work. You can hear him bragging about the good thing about himself for HOURS. 🇦🇸 Good at hiding of his pain (mentally). He also has “Smiling Depression”. Smiling in front of everyone making them think that he’s alright but on the inside he’s just a stressful Captain. 🇦🇸 Kanoa is like Tiala when it comes to deal with an enemy who has family. 🇦🇸 Kanoa is another one of those TERRIBLE driver. He can drive perfectly in a very calm state but when you ask him to speed up. This man will just ZIG-ZAG left and right.

Skills and Abilities:

🇦🇸 Fighting Style: Hand-to-Hand Combat 🇦🇸 Weapons: M4A1, HK416 and M550 🇦🇸 Distinct Weapons: Fixed Blade Dagger 🇦🇸 Special Skills: Has a good sense of improvising last minute. Like, when a mission goes wrong and it doesn’t go as planned; Captain Kanoa Toa got your back by finding another way around  to finish it.

Family:

Nakoa Loe Toa (Father, Alive)

Elei Toa (Mother, Alive)

Hōne Toa (1st Older Brother, Deceased)

Sami Toa (2nd Older Brother, Alive)

Serah Toa (Sister-in-Law, Samis’s Wife, Alive)

Penny Toa (Niece, Sami’s Daughter, Alive)

Dinah Toa (Niece, Sam’s Baby Daughter, Alive)

Rangi Toa (3rd Older Brother, Alive)

Tiala Toa (6th Younger Sister, Alive)

Hemi Toa (5th Younger Brother, Alive)

Iosefa Toa (4th Younger Brother, Alive)

Tamah Toa (3rd Younger Brother, Alive)

Fetu Fetuao Toa (2nd Younger Brother, Alive)

Iona and Kiona Toa (Youngest Brothers, Twins, Alive)

Trivia:

🇦🇸 Kanoa is the only funny kind of siblings in his family. Always make a good joke to keep them laughing and make them forget all of the bad things that happened. 🇦🇸 He’s the 2nd brother that Tiala is really close to after his older brother, Hōne, had passed away 🇦🇸 Kanoa will give you dad jokes 24/7 and even gives you the most embarrassing story about his brothers and his sister. But NEVER about himself. 🇦🇸 He’s always the first one to ask his comrades of who wanted to arm wrestle with him. If they win, he’ll get them ice cream. 🇦🇸 Give good love relationship advice but never get one for himself. (He’s single as heck man and he’s in his 30s!)

Background Story:

Kanoa was proudly born and raised on the island. The funniest man you will ever meet. He joined the Military at the age of 17. Which means he signed up right after High School. Just to keep the family lines going. He was really inspired by his dad, Nakoa, hearing his stories of joining the military.

He signed up with Rangi, his 3rd eldest brother, for the Marine Corps and they both started working hard on reaching to the top. He had also met his other older brother, named Hōne. Who was a Lieutenant at that time. Always make good fun with him during their military times. Until he heard the news of Hōne being KIA from one of the missions. It really took a toll on him.

But he kept going as he worked even harder to pass up the ranks. Until he reached up to the rank of being a Corporal. That’s when he met his sister, Tiala, who is a Private. He was happy and proud to see his little sister working hard to honor their older brother’s name. Until 4 years later, he found out about Tiala volunteering. To go on a solo mission to find out about the intel of the next location; by being the pretend victim for one of the human trafficking.

He’s not very sure about this mission until he gives in to Tiala reasoning with him. But how much he wishes he could take his words back. Finding out that his little sister has been taken away by the enemies. He was devastated and angry to hear this news. So he asks permission from the General to let him and the team he chooses to find her. FAST.

He didn’t give up on searching for Tiala until 2 months later. He finally found her. From the location where no one even KNEW it was there. He raided into the enemies hide out and unalive almost everyone without hesitating.

He took her back and stayed with her in the medical bay. Kanoa was heartbroken to see her in this state and that’s when he decided to make his own special team. He named it “Warriors Task Force”. And started working under one of the Generals of the Marine Corps, Alana Kalani.

He promised himself to bring protection and justice to the people who were victims from the trafficking and being hostages. And that’s when he became Captain of the Marine Corps.

[vomitingstars]

It's a Sleepover Baby! Pt. 1

FunShine Jill x Fem!Reader

Summary: FunShine Jill and y/n have an epic girls night adventure. Typical girl stuff like decorating cupcakes and practicing kissing?

Contains: manipulation, sneaky shit, Jill is a sneaky perv, this is just the intro the real shit begins in part 2

"Come on, Sunspot! It's Saturday. We can't spend all day in bed wasting away." Jill gently attempts to shake your groggy body awake. Whines of exhaustion escaped your lips.

"Jill, please. I'm 'eepy..." Your buff bestie lifted your limp body out of bed and slung you over her shoulder, then carried you off to the bathroom to help you freshen up. You felt a little jealous of her. She always looked so well put together. Constantly energized. Hair perfect. That sweet scent. Maybe that's one of the perks of being dead?

"Yeah yeah. You can rest later tonight. Just relax and let me take care of you~" Jill wets your toothbrush and applies a splat of toothpaste with a little giggle. He well manicure hand gently pries your mouth open. Thrusting the toothbrush in your gaping maw without hesitation. You could've sworn there was something a bit off with her smile. Your brows knit together in a moment of protest but she's quick to notice in the mirror. Distracting you with chit chat about your plans tonight.

"We'll decorate cupcakes, sing karaoke, paint each other's nails, tell spooky ghost stories! Oh, I'm so excited!" Lost in her excitement, Jill thrusted the toothbrush a little too far back towards your throat, causing you to gag. She apologized for accidentally causing you to choke.

You glared at her. Could've sword there was just the tiniest smirk on her face for a split second. Well, it wasn't much of a glare. It was more of an annoyed pout. "I'm not letting you brush my teeth anymore. You like it too much."

Jill whines about you being unfair and just wanting to make your life easier. Your brain isn't fully awake right now though. You're only half aware of the fact that she's done washing your face and carrying you off to the kitchen table for breakfast. She's prepared a fruit salad and blueberry muffins. It's tasty and really shakes off that tired, low energy feeling.

You ghostly gal pal carries you off princess style to the bathroom once more and strips off your pajamas. "You always seem to forget I have legs." You comment while shaking your head with a laugh. It's not a real complaint. If anything, you love being held. Jill makes you feel small, but in a good way. At least most times that is. She preps a bath for the two of you. The bath is mostly Jill chatting your ear off about her adventures in Cloudy Town as she scrubs your body thoroughly. She really doesn't miss a single spot. You would feel embarrassed if you hadn't grown accustomed to Jill's touchy feeling treatment.

You used to cover your body and ask for privacy. For her to leave the room or at least turn around when you change clothes. Of course, Jill managed to help you see, it really isn't a big deal. "Come on, Sunshine, we're both gals. It's nothing I haven't seen before! We're both girls so it's okay right?" You guess it makes sense. It's the same thing as changing in the locker room. Right? So why did this feel different? More...intimate?

The day passes by quickly as the two of you finished up the prep work for your sleepover. You went over your mental slumber party checklist. Sparkly pink drinks, a large pizza with your favorite toppings, and a slasher film playing on tv. The kitty kitchen timer rang loudly, letting everyone know the tray of cupcakes you had baked were ready to come out of the oven.

Jill pulls them out, lickety-split. Admiring the scent as they sat out of the oven to cool. Jill seemed really fond of the 80s slasher film you had put on. She sat you down in her lap and randomly started braiding your hair and chatting your ear off. She knows you're tender-headed and makes you squirm a little. She stifles a little chuckle when you do, and playfully scolds you for moving too much.

"Keep still, Sunspot or I'll have to start over." She wouldn't dare. Oh wait. She would. And she did. You're pretty sure she just wanted an excuse to hold you close. Jill really is an affectionate one. And you're pleasantly surprised when she holds a rose gold mirror up to your face so you can see the fruits of her labor.

"Jill, this is amazing!" You praised. Absolutely enamored with your reflection. Jill's praises were lost in a wave of bliss as you felt a cool sensation running along your scalp. She's taking a well-manicured finger with a bit of hair grease and just massaging your troubles away. It's a nostalgic feeling, really. Everything feels nice and calm, and the final girl succeeded in her endeavors.

"Ready for cupcakes?" Jill doesn't wait for your answer, already lifting you up and towards the kitchen for the next phase of the sleepover. Cupcake decoration.